In some ways, it was an easy choice to make. I never even considered trying to make things right with my father by finding out if I could renew the possibility of an engagement to Rebecca. At the moment, I didn't want to “make things right” with my dad. If it weren’t for my inheritance being at stake, I probably would've told him to go to hell the moment he'd set up an ultimatum. Now, I was trying to figure out a way to still give him the metaphorical finger, but not end up broke and homeless.

Three years of hell was better than a lifetime of it.

I frowned as the thought came to me that if I lost my apartment, I didn't know where I would go. I had friends, plenty of them, but as I thought about each one, I realized I wasn't entirely sure how long they’d stay if I didn't have the money to throw around. If I couldn't buy drugs and booze, if I couldn't pay for strippers or get us into clubs, would my friends still be my friends?

I had a bad feeling that if I didn't get this taken care of, I would end up sharing a room with one of my nephews while Samuel tried to convince our father to change his mind and Hannah pretended I wasn't a huge inconvenience. She loved me, I knew, but I also knew my behavior bothered her and she definitely didn't want it around the kids. Moving in would probably push her over the edge.

I ran my hand through my hair. I'd had a great life. Why couldn't I just go back to it? I looked at the empty water glass on the table. I had to stop whining and get on with it. There was no turning back. My dad had set the rules and I had a choice to make. Or rather, a choice to follow through with. I already knew I wouldn’t walk away, which meant I only had one true choice.

I shifted and caught a whiff of stale beer and sweat. Lovely. Before I did anything, I needed to get cleaned up. Maybe something to eat. My stomach flipped. Okay, maybe sleep, then something to eat. I wasn't entirely sure passing out on the couch really constituted a restful night. I knew the crick in my neck was in agreement.

I woke up mid-afternoon feeling better than I had earlier. My hangover was gone and my stomach felt like it would actually hold something solid. I didn't eat much though, not wanting to push it. I glanced at the clock. I didn't know if Livie would be working again tonight, but I figured it was the best place to start looking for her. And I needed to find her. After all, I had to propose and get her to say 'yes’.

The first thing I knew I needed to do was find a ring, it would go a long way in proving to her I was serious. I'd made a joke about paying her to marry me before, so she might think I was still joking. If I had a ring, it'd look more real. Not that I wanted her to think it was real. I'd already decided I was going to do this, but it would have to be a business deal. I'd make sure both of us got something we needed out of it.

I'd never even thought about buying an engagement ring before, but there were plenty of stores nearby. I was sure at least one of them would have a saleswoman who could help me with my problem.

I was fortunate to find a woman who wouldn’t spend all afternoon gushing over the romance of it all, but she did ask me to describe my intended so that she could help me choose my perfect ring. It was an awkward couple minutes as I tried to come up with something that didn't make me sound like a complete cad. I must've managed to sound like a love-struck fool because she gave me an understanding smile and started to bring out various rings.

I wasn't worried too much about price, especially since I figured if things didn't work out, I'd at least be able to pawn the ring and get cash back, but I also wasn't about to buy something gaudy. I may have been about to ask a stranger to marry me so I didn't lose my comfortable way of life, but I wasn't about to make her look bad doing it, and it wasn't just because I wanted my wife to look good. She'd be putting herself into an awkward situation to begin with. The incentives should at least be worth it.

Finally, we settled on an elegant band of thin, twisted white gold with a large but not too-large diamond with two smaller diamonds on either side. It had a matching set of wedding bands that I put on hold – no need to buy those too if this all went to hell – after assuring the saleswoman I'd make sure she was the one who rang up the sale on them as well. She wished me luck with my proposal and I went on my way.

I found Frankie's easily enough, and my car was where I didn't remember parking it. That was good though. I knew I hadn't driven home, but that hadn't guaranteed my car would be still be here. I told myself that I wouldn't drink tonight, nothing more than a single beer to give me an excuse for being at the bar, so I'd take my car home afterwards.

Unless she said no and then I'd just leave the car and let my dad try to find it when he stopped payments on it. Thinking about how pissed off that would make my dad made me smile. That would be my goal, I decided. No matter what I did, I would make sure it made my father angry. I'd follow his rules, but he'd regret ever making them.

I took a deep breath and started for the door. I hoped Livie would be here, but I wasn't counting on it. I'd probably have to charm my way to finding her again, but I was determined to make this happen, one way or another. If she said no, I needed the time to figure out what I was going to do next.

The interior of the bar was dimmer than I remembered, or maybe it was lighter outside, I wasn't sure. My eyes took a moment to adjust and then I was looking toward the bar, searching for caramel curls. For a minute, I thought I would have to talk to the dark-haired man standing behind the cash register, but then I saw her out of the corner of my eye. I took a few steps toward her before her head came up and she saw me. I saw the glimmer of recognition before she turned away to hand a customer their drink.

The bar was more crowded than it had been the night before, but that was probably because last night had been the late night people, the ones like me. Right now, these were the guys stopping in for a drink between work and going home. I made my way to the edge of the bar, somewhere I could sit out of the way and wait for the best moment to talk to her.

I watched as she went about doing her job, smiling and talking to the patrons, but she didn't come to me for several minutes. I hoped it was because she was busy and not because she was trying to avoid me. When she finally started toward me, she called over her shoulder to the man behind the counter.

“I am going to take my break.” She gestured for me to follow her.

I did and we went through a door marked Employees Only. I hoped she didn't get in trouble, but if she agreed to my proposal, it wouldn't matter what her boss said. She'd never have to come back here again if she didn't want to.

Once we were inside the small break room, she turned toward me, her face expressionless. “I am assuming you did not come here for another drink.”

I grinned at her. “Actually, I had something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“I do not want to deceive your father that we are engaged.”

“Okay,” I said. I hoped she'd get the difference in what I was about to say. “That's not what I want you to do anyway.”

She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, obviously waiting.

I pulled out the ring box and opened it. “I want you to marry me for real.”

Nothing. No change of expression at all.

I hurried to explain, “But not in the 'I love you' sense for real. I told you last night about my father is forcing me to get married or I’ll be disinherited.” She nodded so I continued, “What I said this morning was impulsive. I didn't plan it, but after you left, I couldn't bring myself to tell my father the truth. Then, I thought, maybe it didn't have to be a lie.”

She seemed to realize I wasn't joking with her because she sank down in a chair. I took the chair across from her and set the ring between us.

I suddenly thought of something that would end this quickly. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No.” She tilted her head and gave me a scrutinizing look.

“Then here's my proposal. Since you're working in this lovely place.” I gestured around us. “I'm assuming you're not rolling in money and I doubt that working at a bar has been your vision of the American dream. I have money but I need a wife for the next three years. If you agree to marry me, I'll pay you a hundred thousand dollars a year, and that's not counting access to the penthouse, cars and things like that. After our third anniversary, you file for divorce and I'll agree to twenty thousand dollars a year, after taxes, for alimony.” I looked down at the ring. “Plus you get to keep the ring and any other gifts you get. And the day we get married, I'll give you a fifty thousand dollar bonus.”

She didn't respond for nearly a full minute so I finally looked up. She appeared to be thinking.

“Look, Liv, I completely understand if you think this is crazy and don't want to do it,” I said. “But I figured since I'd already introduced you to my dad – well, more or less – I might as well see if you want to follow through on it.”

“Livie,” she said.

“What?”

“My name. Livie Dusek.” She leaned forward and picked up the ring box. “I do not need to marry for a green card.”

“Okay,” I said. “Do you already have one?”

“No,” she said. “But I have applied.”

“Getting married would help with things in that respect,” I said.

“I would have conditions of my own.”

I couldn't believe she was actually considering it. I hadn't realized I'd been certain she’d say no until she didn't. Granted, I still had to hear her conditions, but I'd already considered what I'd do if she asked for more money. I'd pitched the amounts low for bargaining purposes in the first place.

“No sex.”

I blinked. I had to have misheard her.

She made sure to clarify. “There is to be no physical contact between the two of us.” She paused, and then added, “A kiss at the ceremony and the occasional public touch to preserve the illusion will be allowed.”

Dammit. It wasn't like I'd expected her to jump into bed with me, but I'd assumed things would get there eventually. I mean, a honeymoon was a honeymoon, and it wasn't like I was hideous. Even with Rebecca, I figured I'd get at least something, if only random hook ups just for good sex. Well, maybe not with her, but that was a moot point.

“This is my only condition,” she said. “We will maintain the appearance of a marriage in public, but we will not be physically intimate.”

Her only condition? She wasn't going to ask for more money? I sat back in my chair. My father's warning about infidelity buzzed in my head, but I pushed it aside. There would be ways around it. At least Liv seemed like a decent person.

“All right,” I said. “Let's do this.”